


Of Pretty Girls And Daffodils

by liberty_barnes



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, F/M, Florist AU, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, florist reader, marvel did stevie dirty, mentions of depression, so this is a self indulgeant fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23945200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liberty_barnes/pseuds/liberty_barnes
Summary: The story of how a kind girl in a pretty yellow dress brings Steve Rogers back to life.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 9
Kudos: 108





	Of Pretty Girls And Daffodils

**Author's Note:**

> Estimated Reading Time: 22 minutes
> 
> it started with velcro and now here we are. beware, i don't like angst, i suck at writing angst, angst makes me cry, but i recognize that it is a necessary thing in life so...here is another step into the angst world. i've done the 'pinch of angst', the 'spoonful of angst', now here's the 'angst in the beginning'. hopefully, soon i'll be able to write a half angst one. i don't know about pure angst or angsty ending. but half angst seems plausible for now. (also it really annoys me when i'm not good at something so i'm trying to write more angst so i can improve lol)

Captain America is rough, demanding, focused, all work, and no play. He's the epitome of American perfection and what everyone strives to be. He's the golden boy, the ultimate soldier, the perfect specimen.

Steve Rogers is... dead. The kind-hearted, goofy artist that used to spend his days getting his ass kicked in alleys so others wouldn't have to suffer is dead. He died when the Valkyrie was put on ice, leaving behind a shell of a man.

When he woke up in 2011, the world had changed. The war had ended, everything he knew had died, and he was alone. So naturally, when aliens invaded New York and he was asked to step up and fight, he didn't resist too much.

After all, Captain America was all that he had left.  _ Fighting _ was all that he had left.

So he joined the Avengers, guided them, led them, made them into the elite team they are today. But while the group bonded and turned into a real, somewhat misfitted family, he distanced himself, what good does it do to bond with someone if he's just gonna lose them?

Just like he lost his mom.

And Peggy.

The Howlies. 

Bucky.

He couldn't afford to lose anyone else, so he kept his distances.

Then the whole S.H.I.E.L.D. fiasco happened, Ultron happened, The Accords happened, and suddenly he wasn't so alone anymore. Bucky was alive. His friend was back. A little messed up, sure, but he was back.

Except he wasn't.

This Bucky was different.

He didn't remember him. Not really.

He didn't remember saving him from bullies, or going on double dates. The late-night trips to the beach or the hours spent drawing and talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

And when he did start to remember, it was too late.

Because Bucky  _ fit _ . 

He  _ fit  _ in this weird patchwork family. 

He  _ fit _ when he bonded with Tony over their nightmares. 

He  _ fit  _ when he'd joke in Russian with Natasha. 

He  _ fit  _ when he played pranks on the team with Clint. 

He  _ fit _ when he talked with Thor about Asgardian culture and his fascination for space. 

He  _ fit _ when he did yoga with Wanda to control their bodies and minds now that they were truly their own. 

He  _ fit _ when he'd talk to Bruce about what it felt like to have no control over yourself. 

He  _ fit _ when he'd talk to Rhodey about his PTSD and how he wished the wars would stop. 

He  _ fit _ when he took Peter under his wing because the young genius pretty much worshipped him and made sure he was well caught up on the 21st century. 

He  _ fit _ when he started spending more time with Sam and they eventually became a couple. 

And then Steve was alone, again.

Because _ Bucky fit _ .

_ Sam _ fit. 

_ Everyone _ fit.

And he was the odd one out, like a LEGO block amongst all the jigsaw pieces.

He was  _ alone _ .

What he missed the most about living at the Tower was the privacy.

Sure, he wasn't happy that living there was mandatory and that the revised Accords pretty much had the Avengers on house arrest, but having his own floor where he didn't have to fake a smile every time someone walked in was a relief.

He didn't go to the common floor.

As a matter of fact, the only time he saw the team apart from missions was in the training room.

He spent most of his days there. And the others were starting to notice. And talk.

It was just amicable teasing, but it still rubbed him the wrong way, which is how he found himself dressed and awake at 4:30 in the morning, ready to go out.

He ran from the Tower to Manhattan in a little over thirty minutes, only a third of the time necessary but with his enhanced metabolism, it felt like a walk in the park. 

And then he walked. 

Through his old neighborhood, frowning at places he no longer recognized.

And he walked a little faster.

Tears welling in his eyes when he saw the Starbucks built where his mother's house used to be.

And he ran.

Until the buildings passed by so fast that they all looked the same.

Until the biting cold of the early spring morning made him feel like his cheeks were going to freeze off.

Until he had to stop so he could breathe, the physical effort and the emotional trauma finally catching up to him.

Until he fell to his knees behind a dumpster in an alley while sobs shook his body.

And he cried.

He cried for the loss of his mother, still fresh even after all these years.

He cried for the loss of the first person to ever believe in him, the image of Erskine's dead body still vivid in his mind.

He cried for the loss of the first woman he ever loved, and the future they could have had.

He cried for the loss of his team, his real team, his family.

He cried for the loss of his best friend, his brother, the only tie to his past.

And he cried because, amongst all that, he lost _ himself _ . He lost his innocence. His love for life. His personality. His well-being. Who he was.

_ That morning, in Brooklyn, a broken man mourned Steve Rogers and wished his life would end. _

"Oh my God, sir, are you okay?"

The voice startled him. 

It was soft, soothing, like the soft notes of a piano, or the melodic cry of a nightingale.

His red-rimmed eyes met bright (y/e/c) ones and in a second he could see everything. He could see innocence, empathy, overwhelming kindness, all condensed into a worried gaze, directed at him.

"Um... I'm fine, there's no need to worry, ma'am."

His voice came out scratchy and he sniffled, straightening up, eyes darting around the alley trying to see if someone else saw him.

"You're a shitty liar, you know that?"

You took his wrist and started pulling him towards a metal door on the opposite side of the dumpster. 

He would've protested, he  _ could've _ protested, but what good does it do? Worst case scenario his  _ public image _ would die, best-case scenario,  _ he _ would die.

So he let himself be pulled into an unfamiliar building by a stranger in a  [ bright yellow polka dot dress ](https://www.aliexpress.com/i/32917164181.html) .

The inside of the building seemed like something straight out of a fairytale. Flowers every which way, in various states. Some still growing, some waiting to be arranged, some already in gorgeous arrangements. The windows were big and illuminated the room perfectly. He could see that the walls could maybe use a paint job, and the tables and chairs had seen better days, but the place still radiated warmth, comfort,  _ home _ .

"Sit down, pretty boy, I'll be right back."

He didn't have the strength to fight back, so instead, he just sat down on the faded pink wooden chair and took in the sweet smell that enveloped the room.

You came back after a while with a fluffy looking blanket and a box of tissues. He took the box with a small 'thank you' and you draped the blanket over his shoulders. It's only when the warm fabric was cocooning him that he realized he'd been trembling before, and he let out a shaky breath of relief.

"What's your favorite kind of tea?"

"Wh-What?"

"What's your favorite kind of tea?"

He hadn't had a cup of tea since the 40s, how's he supposed to know?

"I-I don't know, hot?"

That comment made you laugh and the sound spread warmth through his chest. He wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life.

"Okay, sit tight."

You went over to the small kitchenette on the other side of the room and put water to boil. He couldn't help but be mesmerized by your every movement. The way you moved reminded him of a ballerina: elegant, loose,  _ gorgeous _ . You made the tea quickly and efficiently, then sat down on the metal stool in front of him.

"It's wild berry tea, I don't know if you like it but it's worth a shot."

"Thank you."

He took a sip of the hot beverage and his eyes closed in bliss. It was sweet, but not overly so, and warmed up his insides in the best possible way.

"It's very good."

You smiled and took a sip of your own tea.

"Thank you."

For once, the silence didn't bother him. He didn't feel the need to flee the room and hide or when that wasn't possible, strike up a meaningless conversation that made him feel even worse. You made the silence feel soothing, kind of like what he used to have with Bucky, when they sat in silence for hours, not making a single sound as they drew.

"You wanna tell me what happened?"

He sighed and looked down at his half-empty cup of tea.

"Just... went through some stuff and now I'm having trouble finding my place again."

You nodded and looked off into the distance.

"It's understandable. It must be hard going through what you did. I'm guessing the 21st century is a whole lot different from the 40s."

He wanted to be surprised that you knew who he was, but at this point, it was harder to find someone that  _ didn't _ know him.

"Did you find something to do yet?"

"Missions. I train a lot, fight people when they tell me to fight."

"I mean like a hobby. Something besides being a soldier. Something that you enjoy."

He managed to give you a small smile.

"I'm guessing running to my old neighborhood doesn't count?"

"Well, it ended with you crying near a dumpster, so that's a hard no for me."

You finished your tea in one big gulp and got up, walking to the other side of the room where a few shelves were precariously screwed to the walls. In fact, now that he noticed it, everything seemed to be falling apart in here.

"Okay, put this on, the delivery guy should be here in about ten minutes, so I'm gonna take advantage of those muscles of yours and you're gonna carry the bags of soil from there-"

You pointed to a door opposite to the one he entered from.

"-to here."

You pointed to a little corner near the window where a lonely bag of soil was neatly arranged.

"Yes, Ma'am."

He finished his tea and put on the bright blue apron you handed him and was momentarily blinded by the megawatt smile you threw his way.

"Okay, let's get to work, Daffodil."

And that's how he spent his day, helping you around the shop, carrying heavy things, and running to the store to get proper building materials so he could fix your shelves. All while trying not to stare at you for too long, though that seemed to be an impossible task.

After the best night's sleep he's had since 2011, he got dressed in some more appropriate clothing, took his time to properly style his hair, and jumped on his bike.

He showed up at your store ten minutes after you'd arrived with a box of croissants and a bright smile on his face.

"What am I doing today, Boss?"

You smiled and ushered him in, getting started on the tea while he arranged the croissants and went to get his apron.

Two months later, he was still leaving the tower every day at seven-thirty and working at Beautiful Blossom well past closing hour.

It turns out that having a hobby was really good for him. He became happier and started to actually sleep most nights instead of staying awake for hours on end and passing out from exhaustion. For the first time since they moved into the Tower, he actually agreed to join the Team's weekly movie night, and although he didn't participate much, he was there, with a smile on his face, a genuine one, and that made the team happy.

Four months after he first started working at your store, Los Angeles was attacked by an alien species. The team spent 19 gruesome hours kicking, punching, shooting, blasting, slicing those orange beasts until they were finally able to send them back to where they came from. 

As he sat on the jet, images took over his mind.

A child running to her mother's arms.

A man getting choked by one of those aliens.

A girl being swallowed alive by one of them.

Suddenly, that girl was looking at him.

And she had a gorgeous smile on her face, along with a yellow polka dot dress and a blue apron tied around her waist.

The beast swallowed her alive.

Killed her.

Her screams filled his ears.

_ Your  _ screams filled his ears.

The jet hadn't even landed properly and he was already straddling his bike and on his way to your house.

"Steve, what are you doing he-"

He didn't give you time to finish your sentence before he was kissing you within an inch of your life, rough leather gloves on each side of your head and salty tears dripping from his face to yours.

"I-I-I'm sorry I just... she was so young a-a-and I couldn't s-save her and she just... then you were there and those things got to you and I couldn't... I had to make sure you were okay. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so so sor-"

You pulled him back down by the nape of his neck and kissed him just as fervently as the first time, trying to convey everything you were feeling through that kiss.

_ I'm okay.  _

_ I'm safe.  _

_ You have nothing to be sorry for. _

_ I love you too. _

"The bruises on your arms are almost healed."

The rose petals in the bathtub moved around as you trailed your hands from his shoulders to his elbows.

"It's 'cause of the serum. I heal fast."

You frowned and brushed your fingertips over the purplish bruises on his neck.

"Does that mean these won't stay?" 

He gave you an apologetic smile.

"I give them five more minutes at most."

"Damn. And I was proud of them too, came out real pretty."

He chuckled and started drawing little circles on your ribcage with his thumbs.

"Guess I'll just have to keep them fresh."

You leaned forwards and started nibbling at his jaw.

"All hot and bothered already?"

"Why? Do you need a moment to catch your breath, old man?"

He let out a loud laugh at that and pulled your face towards his.

"I'm a supersoldier, pretty girl, I can do this all day."

It was your first Valentine's Day together and Steve wanted to go all out, while also making up for being away for three months on a mission and leaving you to celebrated New Year's and Christmas on your own. 

So he sent you a text, asking you to be ready by seven, put on his nicest suit, and took one last glance at the surprise waiting for you when you got back.

The ride to your place felt strange. He usually took his bike to your house but since this was a date and dresses don't go all too well with Harley Davidsons, he decided to take his car instead.

You were waving goodbye to your neighbor when he got there, and as soon as he saw you, smile in place, and beautiful  [ yellow dress ](https://www.luulla.com/product/1522864/yellow-v-neck-lace-short-prom-dress-yellow-appliques-evening-dress-mn124) making you shine brighter than the sun, he swore he fell in love with you all over again.

"Hey there, pretty girl."

He pulled you by the hand until you were pressed against him, his opposite hand moving to hold your cheek.

"Hey there, Daffodil."

He smiled and gave you a soft kiss on the lips, ignoring Mrs. Baker's obvious cheering, along with her husband's once he saw what all the commotion was about.

He opened the door for you like the gentleman he was and waved goodbye at the nice elderly couple before driving off, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh.

Dinner was amazing. He took you to an Italian restaurant on the Upper East Side and you had to admit, even though you had to dress up nice and everyone looked, smelled, and acted like a million bucks, the food was more than worth it. 

You talked about what you did while he was gone. How the flower shop was much warmer since he'd replaced the windows and doors. How your clients kept complimenting the paintings he did on the wall.  _ How much you missed him. _

In return, he talked about his mission. How they had to do surveillance for most of the time. How the team was so bored that they'd resorted to playing Never Have I Ever much too often.  _ How he spent those three months frustrated as all Hell cause he couldn't see or talk to you. _

After dinner, he took you back to his place for the first time in the eight months you've been dating. The whole way there you kept repeating the same thing.

_ Are you sure? _

_ You won't regret this? _

_ We can still go back to my place. _

_ I don't mind waiting till you're ready. _

"I am ready, doll. Don't you worry about that."

The elevator ride was...unsettling to say the least. This is Tony Stark we're talking about, of course, his elevator's gonna be quick, you just didn't expect it to be this quick. When you stepped out of the elevator you gave a small sigh of relief at the fact that you were not dead and Steve chuckled, kissing your knuckles before pulling you towards the bedroom.

"Close your eyes, pretty girl."

"Stevie..."

"Please?"

He threw you those irresistible puppy dog eyes that had you melting on the spot and you groaned as you covered your eyes with your hands.

"If you're gonna kill me, do it fast. Oh, and make sure you don't get caught, I wanna end up on Buzzfeed Unsolved."

"I'm not gonna kill you."

"If you're putting on your stealth suit, then I'm pretty sure I'll die."

He smirked at you.

"Well, no, but let's get back to that later, now I'm curious."

You groaned.

"I've seen the pictures, Daffodil, my ass looks amazing in that suit."

He paused with the box still in his hands and looked at you.

"Wait, what?"

"You heard me."

"But I'm the one wearing the suit..."

"And your ass belongs to me, therefore, MY ASS looks great in that suit."

He laughed and set the box on the bed, moving behind you and taking your wrists in his hand, gently pulling them apart so you had a clear view of the room.

"Oh my..."

You couldn't help your gasp as you looked around the room, lit up with candles and crawling with flowers.

"I took that book on your nightstand, you know, the one with all the meanings of the flowers. So I got some red roses because those symbolize romance and passion, tulips because you're the most perfect thing in the world to me, carnations because you fascinate me, peonies because you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, hydrangeas because I want us to be together for as long as you'll want me, lilies because you're the purest thing in my life, gardenias because you give me hope, columbine's because you're my salvation, and lavender roses because I fell in love with you the moment my eyes met yours."

He squeezed your hands and you drew in a shaky breath, tears falling from your eyes.

"Hold on, why are you crying? Are you sad? Did I do something wrong?"

You shook your head and jumped into his arms, his own coming to wrap around you so you wouldn't fall.

"This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

You pulled back and put your hands on his cheeks, kissing him softly and fully planning on heating things up as a reward for all he's done for you when a sound stopped you.

"Huh?"

I happened again, except this time, the box sitting on top of the bed shook a little.

"Steve? Why's that box moving?"

"Well-"

"Did you buy me a vibrator for when you're away and accidentally turn it on?"

He facepalmed so hard even you felt it.

"Open the box, pretty girl."

You cautiously stepped out of his arms and made your way towards the box, several things running through your head, most implying that you'd get murdered, but nothing prepared you for what was inside the box.

"Oh my God, Steve! You didn't!"

You brought your hands to your mouth for the second time that night, eyes watering again as your boyfriend hugged you from behind.

"Meet  [ Aurora ](https://www.pinterest.ch/pin/307300374556144935/) and  [ Twilight ](https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/527554543846751205/) ."

You reached your hand towards them and both puppies clumsily jumped out of the box, bumping into each other in a fight for your attention until you brought both hands up to caress them.

"Where did you find them?"

"On the mission. They were abandoned at the side of the road and I just couldn't leave them there. I took them to the vet last week and Twilight was cleared pretty quickly, he was a little malnourished but otherwise okay, Aurora just got out today though."

Your hand caressed the cast encompassing her left leg.

"She needs to leave that for a little while longer, broken leg, but she's expected to make a full recovery."

You were full-on sobbing right now, scratching behind their little ears with your nails.

"Wanna get changed and play with them for the rest of the night?"

"Can we?"

"Of course we can, pretty girl, anything you want."

You smiled at him and he threw a hoodie and some boxers your way while he got changed into a pair of sweatpants, not bothering to put on a shirt. You spent the rest of the night playing with your new puppies, throwing the ball for Twilight to catch and rolling it so Aurora could also play. The puppies eventually got tired of playing and fell asleep in their brand new little bed new the floor to ceiling windows of the living room while Steve took you to his room and locked the door for good measure.

"Sir, there appears to be two animals entering the Tower."

"WHAT?"

Tony stood upright, inadvertently causing the others to lose their balance and fall in a mess of limbs on the Twister mat while Wanda laughed at the sight from her safe place behind the wheel.

He struggled to get out but when he did, he immediately pulled up the surveillance videos where Steve motherfucking Rogers was entering his state of the art tower with two slobbery, noisy, hyperactive balls of fur.

"Oh no! No, no, no, no, no! I will not have these-these  _ filthy beasts _ living in  _ my _ tower!"

While Tony went off about how dogs were disgusting and he didn't want to be that close to one ever, Bucky and Natasha squinted at the monitor.

"Why's Steve wearing a suit?"

"Do you think he has a date?"

"Wait, Capsicle has a date?"

"And a pretty important one too! He's taking the car! He never takes the car!"

At this point, the whole team was huddled around the monitor watching as their leader got into the car and drove away... without the puppies.

"What do we do?"

"Do we follow him?"

"Why would we follow him, Samuel?"

"I wanna know who his date is!"

"No, first things first, we get the creatures out of my tower! Now hustle people, so much to do, so little time and all that."

They all piled into the elevator, reaching Steve's floor in seconds and splitting up to search for the pets.

"OH MY GOD, THEY'RE SO CUTE!"

Peter's exclamation and Wanda's excited squeal had them running to the master bathroom, where the two youngsters were busy petting two little puppies.

"You can't throw them out, look at how cute they are!"

"And this one's even got a cast!"

"Oh, look! They don't wanna be apart!"

"It's like they're soulmates!"

"Mister Stark, can we keep them?"

"Please, Tony, please?"

Tony can't resist three things: caffeine, Pepper Potts, and apparently his two unofficially adopted kids pouting at them and using their puppy dog eyes while actual puppies mimic them perfectly.

"I'm gonna regret this..."

"Yay! We get puppies!"

"So, is no one gonna mention that it looks like a flower shop threw up in Cap's room?"

They all piled back out of the bathroom (after Peter and Wanda said goodbye to the puppies of course) and looked at the room.

"Why are there like a thousand different flowers here?"

"Why can't he just choose red roses like normal people?"

Sam and Tony complained, arms crossed in disapproval.

"They all mean different things, he wants to send a message, not just decorate the room.

Natasha said and they all looked at her with confused expressions.

"Had to pretend to be a florist for a mission, people often ask the meaning of the flowers they're buying."

"At least we know we won't have to follow them, they're coming back here."

Tony's eyes lit up with mirth and he smiled devilishly.

"Oh, I have an idea."

You woke the next morning with your lover's arms around your waist and a pleasant sense of safety in your chest.

You carefully extricated yourself from his arms and padded over to the kitchen, hoping that he had tea in that massive kitchen of his.

"Well, hello there."

You yelped and turned around towards the living room where the Avengers were gathered doing seemingly mundane things. You looked at the bedroom door and back at them, ultimately deciding that if Steve thought his teammates would hurt you he wouldn't have brought you here.

"Um... Good morning."

You walked towards the kitchen, thanking every deity out there that it was an open space and you could keep an eye on them while making your tea.

"So, you probably know who we are, Avengers and all that shit but we don't know anything about you since the Old Man's been keeping you a secret so please, go off."

"Yeah, appreciate this, it's a rare occasion where Stark doesn't want to talk about himself and instead would rather listen."

You chuckled a bit at Bucky's remark and added a spoonful of sugar into your beverage, sitting on the marble countertop, facing them.

"Well, um, I'm (Y/n)."

Everyone looked at you with the utmost attention.

"Yeah, um, anyway, I'm a florist down in Brooklyn. I'm 26 years old and Steve's girlfriend of eight months."

That got a reaction out of the brunette supersoldier.

"Eight months? He had a girlfriend for  _ eight months _ and didn't tell me?"

"Well to be fair, you all went off to make your own little family here and none of you even cared enough to notice I was depressed. If it weren't for her I'd probably be dead by now, so excuse me for not mentioning it."

They all stiffened at that, Bucky particularly, but didn't say anything.

Steve walked over to you and kissed your temple before moving on to preparing his own cup of tea. The silence was heavy in the room and the only thing that could be heard was the blonde's soft footsteps and the spoon clinking against the mug. He settled in next to you once his cup was done and you rested your head on his shoulder. 

"I'm very glad you met then."

Natasha said, seemingly measuring her every word. Steve nodded at her and from your vantage point, you were able to see Twilight slowly blinking awake.

"Stevie, where's the food, we need to feed them! Oh, and get dressed too so we can take them on a walk, but not too far so Rorie doesn't get too tired."

As you talked, you were lightly punching his shoulder until he got the message and went to get the puppies' food, a smile on his face.

Meanwhile, you made your way to the little bed and as soon as the little ones saw you, they jumped into your arms, asking for cuddles.

"Alright, babies, meet the Avengers, Avengers, meet Twilight and Aurora."

Peter and Wanda immediately jumped out of the couch and crouched over near you, gushing over the puppies and begging you to let them puppysit sometime, to which you promptly agreed.

"Okay, got the food!"

Apparently, the dogs realized that, because they ran to him faster than you thought would be possible.

"Christ! Okay, relax, I'll give you the food!"

It took much too long for Steve to feed them cause he kept getting tackled by the puppies, but he eventually did. He went back to the living room afterward, only to see you deeply engrossed in a story about... him?

"...and then he made me burn the drawing cause he didn't want it ending up in the wrong hands."

Sam was rolling on the floor laughing when Steve came back into the room.

"You... the drawing... French girls... 'but I'm American'!"

He said between laughs, tears falling from the corners of his eyes.

"Huh?"

"I told them the story about that one time I asked you to draw me like one of your French girls and your reaction was 'but I'm American'."

Oh, yeah, that.

"You did burn the drawing after, didn't you?"

"Of course I did."

"Good."

He sat down next to you and pulled you into him so you were sitting on his lap.

"I don't get it."

You turned to Tony, his brows furrowed while looking at you.

"She's like... this fluffy, adorable thing that everyone wants to engage with, and you're like a spiky, prickly thing that no one feels welcome to touch, but somehow you two work. How do you two work?"

Peter's eyes lit up and he straightened up from .where he was propped up against the couch next to your legs.

"Oh! _ I _ know! They're like velcro! Spiky Steve latches onto soft (Y/n), soft (Y/n) keeps him in place so he doesn't escape and they keep their lives together thanks to their velcro union!"

The room erupted in laughs and you ruffled his hair good-naturedly.

And as the team talked and joked as they always did, Steve realized that for once, he didn't feel excluded.

He was planning double dates with Bucky and Sam.

Peter wanted him to teach him how to control his strength so he didn't keep breaking punching bags.

Wanda asked if he could teach her how to draw.

Clint called dibs on him for the next team paintball.

Rhodey was interested in his thoughts about the American military system and they scheduled a day to talk about it more in-depth.

Natasha took it upon herself to force him to watch the entire Harry Potter series, as well as read the books. 

Thor was connecting with him over the fact that both were made to become someone they didn't want and had to break free of that.

Bruce was supportive of his vulnerable mental state and offered to have Steve accompany him to one of his suicide prevention groups.

Tony was talking about the best measures to take so the dogs would be comfortable at the Tower and Steve wouldn't have to move, even going as far as to tell you that you could move in anytime you wanted.

And for the first time since 1945,  _ he fit _ .

_ On February 14th, 2019, Captain America died. _

_ On February 14th, 2019, Steve Rogers was reborn. _

**Author's Note:**

> okay, for those who don’t know daffodils mean rebirth and i thought it was fitting. 
> 
> this was a wild ride from start to finish, and if you wanna see more of my work go to my tumblr: liberty-barnes


End file.
